


come into my parlor

by 1000_directions



Series: mcu kink bingo [4]
Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: F/M, Foreskin Play, Friends With Benefits, Identity Porn, Insecurity, Kissing, Lots Of Foreplay And Not Much Else, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Roleplay, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/pseuds/1000_directions
Summary: Sebastian has kissed a lot of people on camera. He goes so deeply into his characters’ heads, and he acts with his eyes and his jaw and his ears and every last bit of him. In front of the camera, he turns into someone else. And when he kisses as a character, he thinks that a part of him really does fall in love with whoever he’s kissing. He can’t separate it. It never turns cold and clinical for him. Something about it is real, every time.So as they’re kissing right now, it’s him kissing his friend Scarlett, but he’s also Sebastian Stan kissing a fan, and he’s the Winter Soldier kissing the Black Widow, and he’s Bucky kissing Natalia. He’s all of them, all of their complicated histories intermingling in the ephemeral space where their lips are touching. And a small part of him falls in love with every last version of her.





	come into my parlor

**Author's Note:**

> square filled: Scarlett Johansson/Sebastian Stan
> 
> This story takes place during the filming of _Civil War_ and is slightly inconsistent with canon/reality. Please assume that they are both single for the purposes of this fic.

“They never let us do the fun stuff,” Sebastian murmurs to Scarlett as they watch Heidi vault onto James’ shoulders and wrap her thighs around his head.

“I don’t know if you could handle the fun stuff,” she replies with a quirk of her lips, then they both fall silent as their stunt doubles flawlessly execute the meticulous fight choreography in front of them.

“I could do that,” he insists weakly, tracking the way James keeps himself upright while subtly supporting Heidi, hitting each step and punch and feint perfectly. They’re fighting, but they’re also dancing, perfectly anticipating each onslaught and working together to convince the camera they’re working against each other. “If I had enough practice.”

James slams Heidi down onto the table, and the AD calls cut, and the reverie of the fight is broken. Now they’re unmistakably back on the lot, making a movie together, and everyone is shuffling around cameras to get new angles, and someone’s touching up Heidi’s wig, and they’ll probably shoot this a dozen more times before Sebastian and Scarlett are needed again.

He turns to look at her, and she’s closer than he’d realized. She’s really beautiful. Like, obviously she’s beautiful, she’s basically a pin-up come to life. But even under all the makeup they put on her face to trick people into thinking she’s gorgeous, he knows she’s really pretty under all that, too. Not all actresses are. Not that it matters. But she is.

 _Captain America: Civil War_ is a much bigger production than Sebastian was prepared for. _The Winter Soldier_ was a big ordeal, too, like he met Scarlett for the first time but also Sam Jackson and Robert freakin’ Redford, who basically revolutionized independent film-making in the United States while also being one of the biggest classic movie stars of all time, like are you kidding me? He met so many impressive people and did so many cool things. He learned intense fight sequences, he had the craziest costume, he got to put his own spin on an iconic character and be the first person to _ever_ bring him to life.

Plus, the arm. Admittedly, getting into the thing is an aggravating and embarrassing process, and he plays it off like it’s a joke or a nuisance, but there’s something so powerful about physically transforming into someone else, the way it affects his balance and his posture, the way it affects his psyche when it won’t move the way he wants it to move, the way it’s his and yet not his, something he works with but something he didn’t specifically choose. All that and it looks cool as hell.

But with _Civil War_ , he’s just one small part in a machine the size of a small nation. And some of those other parts are, like, Robert Downey Jr.

So it’s intimidating. He’d spent months shaping his body into something different, trying to bulk up so that he took up enough space to feel like he’d earned his right to be here. And he’s glad he did that, but he doesn’t know if it makes a difference. There are lots of ways to command attention, to have gravitas and presence, and only some of those are physical.

He never would have thought that Scarlett Johansson, one of the hottest and most famous women in probably the entire world, would be someone he’d consider a friend, but she’s one of the only familiar things about this process. Sometimes they run into each other at the gym in the morning, and she waits for him to be finished so they can both grab coffee together. And sometimes when they aren’t needed on set, they go to his trailer and read through comic books and talk about whether or not they think their characters are going to end up together in the movies like they did in the comics. The two of them have constructed their own intricate backstory for Bucky and Natasha, and even if that never makes it into a film, Sebastian finds comfort in knowing more about his character’s life. He hopes it brings a subconscious depth to his performance. He doesn’t know if Scarlett feels the same way, but she indulges him anyway, and if she minds him hanging around her so much, she’s too nice to say anything about it.

“How much practice?”

“Huh?” The two of them started walking at some point, because now they’re outside her trailer. This happens to him, sometimes. He goes somewhere in his head, and whoever is nearby just kind of shepherds him to the next point in the process until he clocks back in. It’s hard to explain, but Scarlett and Chris and Mackie are mostly used to him by now.

“How much practice,” she repeats patiently, “would it take for you to get that sequence down?”

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s not sure what she’s asking exactly, because it seems like a straightforward question, but the way she’s looking at him makes it seem more like a double entendre. “A lot, I guess. Wouldn’t want to drop you.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she says softly, and she’s standing so close that she has to look up at him. “You wouldn’t be able to afford me if you broke me.” She licks her lips and blinks at him so slowly, and her lashes are long as hell as she peers up at him from under them, and she shifts her weight just a tiny bit so that when she breathes in, he feels the suggestion of her body against his. Just a whisper, just a spark of warmth.

Okay, listen. He always goes for actresses. He always dates his costars. He knows this, she knows this, everyone knows this. People in the industry are the only ones who get how weird and particular he is, and it’s hard for normal girls to understand why he needs to stay awake for two days straight to see how it feels, or why he needs to shave his head to see if it makes strangers treat him differently, or why he camps out at the coffee shop by the VA a few times a month to see the way people carry themselves when they’ve been through a war, or why he needs to do any of his other method experiments that are important to him, no matter how big or small or trivial or significant the role may be. This is his job, and he has a very specific and admittedly quirky way of doing it, and if actresses don’t always completely understand, at least they tolerate his process.

But he dates _actresses_ , he doesn’t date huge international sex symbol celebrities. And he thinks maybe Scarlett is coming on to him, and that just. Doesn’t make sense. They’re friends, and they’re comfortable together, and okay, he _knows_ what she looks like, so he has to try really hard not to look at her that way. To be respectful. He’s always tried to be respectful and to not treat her any differently from any of the guys, and they’re _friends_. And she’s so pretty and so famous, and she could have absolutely anyone she wanted, probably, and there are plenty of guys better looking than him on this set. So he’s probably reading it wrong.

She’s looking at him like she’s waiting for him to say something, but he has no idea what to say.

“What,” he attempts, and then he stops and tries again. “Sorry. Are you hitting on me? It’s okay if you’re not. It’s okay if you _are_! I just. I’m confused.”

She smiles at him, and her eyes get soft and liquid, and fuck, she’s so pretty.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks, touching two of her fingers to his wrist. “Just come in, if you want.”

“Okay,” he says, and he follows her up the steps into her trailer, and he tries not to stare at her ass but it’s right there in his face, and her costume doesn’t hide anything. They always make her costumes so tight, and she always looks so good in them.

Her trailer is nicer than his, which isn’t really surprising, and he’s just starting to look around and take it all in when she starts unzipping the tight leather jacket she wears as Black Widow, and everything else just blurs to background noise as he zooms in to the snick-snick-snick of each zipper tooth reluctantly separating to reveal her skin, millimeter by tantalizing millimeter. He’d thought the jacket was tight, but the tank top underneath is tighter, and she shrugs her shoulders a few times as she wriggles her way out of the jacket, and her whole body is an undulation, like she’s waving hi to him with her shoulders and her hips and her tits.

 _Jesus_.

“Sit down,” she says. “If you want. You look terrified.”

“Just tell me,” he says carefully, “what you want from me. I’m probably in, but I’m no good at playing games. Just tell me so I don’t fuck it up.”

“Are you attracted to me?”

“Of course I am,” he says. “Christ, how could I not be? But we’re coworkers. We’re _friends_. I thought I was being professional about it.”

She stares down at her hands, and her hair falls across her face in a way that disguises some of her beauty, makes her look ordinary. And then she looks back up at him, and she seems vulnerable for the first time ever.

“I just wanted to fuck someone who looked at me like I was a regular person,” she says softly. “But maybe you’re not that guy.”

“I can be that guy,” he insists, and he takes a step closer. He’s garbage at picking up on signals, but he’s great at acting. “What do you want, Scar?”

“Wait here,” she says. “Sit down and wait for me. I’m doing this all wrong.”

He sits down on the leather couch that stretches the length of the room, and she nods and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind herself. He hears the sink turn on and off, drawers opening and closing, and just about five minutes later, she’s walking back into the room.

She’s scrubbed off all her makeup, and the wig is gone, and her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail. She’s wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, and she walks over to him with her bare feet and sits next to him on the couch. She still looks so pretty, but in a more accessible, familiar kind of way.

“Oh my god,” she says, breathless and quiet, like she’s trying to contain herself but she barely can. She touches his knee and then pulls her hand back quickly and shoves her hands in her lap. “Oh my god, you’re _Sebastian Stan_.”

“What do you want?” he asks her again quietly, although he thinks he’s beginning to understand.

“Can you fuck me like I’m no one?”

“You’re not no one,” he says. He rests his hand lightly on her shoulder, and he can barely even feel the shape of her through the thick sweatshirt fabric. She’s tiny in his palm.

“Fuck me like I’m not special.”

“You _are_ special,” he says, and his heart starts beating faster. He can’t pretend she’s not. Something about seeing her like this, all stripped down and clean and open, is even more attractive to him than when she’s all dressed up. She’s prettier when she doesn’t try, maybe. Like this, she looks like someone he could actually have a shot at.

“Like.” She bites her lip and looks away, and there’s a frantic sort of desperation in her eyes when she looks at him again. “Like whatever is special about me is _about me_. Fuck me like I’m a pretty girl you met at a bar and you’ve never heard of Scarlett Johansson and you don’t...expect me to be anything special. And if it turns out that I _am_ special, it’s because I’m me, not because I’m her.”

“Is that what you really want?” He holds his breath while he waits for her response, and when she nods, he feels relief flooding his body, and he thinks he really wants this, too. Wants to look after this seed of vulnerability she’s sharing with him. He wants to tend her and nurture her and make a goddamn flower bloom inside of her.

“You’re so handsome in person,” she says, and her voice is whispery, not as husky as it usually is. She touches her fingertips to his jaw, runs them over the stubble on his throat, tracks the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “You’re even hotter in person.”

“Thanks,” he says hoarsely, and he doesn’t know if she’s playing or telling the truth, but the compliment settles nice and warm in his belly. “That’s so kind of you to say, sweetheart. You seem like a really nice girl.”

“I can be nice,” she agrees with a small smile. “I can be naughty, too. What do you like? I’ll be good for you.”

“I want you to have a good time,” he says. He’s really not even acting anymore. He’d say that to any girl he was messing around with. “What do _you_ like?”

“Can I suck you?” she asks, not meeting his eyes. “I just want to get filled up. Can I suck you a bit first, and then will you fuck me?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, of course.”

She stretches her neck to one side, then to the other. She’s still not looking at him directly, and he just. He just needs to make sure they’re both on the same page before this gets out of control.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, Scar. Look at me for a second.” She flicks her eyes back to his, but he can’t read the expression in them. “This is what you want, right? Is...is this what you want?”

“This is what I want,” she says softly. “Don’t make me beg for it. Don’t you humiliate me like that.”

“Shit, no, I wouldn’t do that,” he says quickly. “That’s not what I…. You’re my friend, and I just. I don’t want to push you somewhere you don’t want to go. Just wanted to make sure.”

“Do you need to know my safewords?” she asks, raising one eyebrow.

“No,” he says with a frown. “No, I’m not-- I mean obviously yes, if you want to, then yes, of course. If that’s what you-- But I’m not--” He shakes his head and gives his thoughts a moment to settle. “If you say stop, I’m gonna stop. It doesn’t need to be any fancier than that for me unless you want it to be.”

“I don’t need to be fancy,” she says with a very small smile. “Anything else? I’m starting to think you don’t really want a blowjob.”

“No, I...I definitely want a blowjob,” he admits. “Just don’t want to ruin a friendship over it.”

“We won’t ruin anything. I need this from someone, and I trust you. We’ll do it once, and then we won’t do it again.”

“Can I kiss you first?” Even with her makeup gone, her lips are so full and flushed. It was one of the first things he’d noticed about her when they met, her _mouth_ , her gorgeous fucking mouth, and he thinks maybe just one kiss to start might help him ease into whatever they’re doing.

“Yeah,” she says softly, and she cups his neck with her hand, pulling him closer as she crawls forward fully into his lap. “Yeah, you can kiss me.”

The weight of her body across his thighs is barely anything at all, and he places his hands on her hips, pulling her down so he can really feel her there on top of him, and she moves easily where he puts her. At first, her mouth is almost timid against his, so he holds back, too, letting her get used to him, waiting for her to initiate more. And slowly, slowly, she opens up to him. She curls her fingers against the back of his neck and lets her lips part with a soft mewl, and then she’s really kissing him, thorough and hungry and desperate, and he just holds on and kisses her back.

Sebastian has kissed a lot of people on camera. Men and women, friends and strangers. Other actors always say that it’s just work, that it feels clinical and cold and mechanical to them, that it’s about best camera angles and lighting, not passion. Someone told him once that it bled into the rest of his life, and kissing stopped feeling special even when he was with his girlfriend.

For Sebastian, it’s been almost the opposite. He goes so deeply into his characters’ heads, and he acts with his eyes and his jaw and his ears and every last bit of him. In front of the camera, he turns into someone else. And when he kisses as a character, he thinks that a part of him really does fall in love with whoever he’s kissing. He can’t separate it. It never turns cold and clinical for him. Something about it is real, every time.

So as they’re kissing right now, it’s him kissing his friend Scarlett, but he’s also Sebastian Stan kissing a fan, and he’s the Winter Soldier kissing the Black Widow, and he’s Bucky kissing Natalia. He’s all of them, all of their complicated histories intermingling in the ephemeral space where their lips are touching. And a small part of him falls in love with every last version of her.

“Am I a good kisser?” she whispers, resting her forehead against his.

“Really good,” he says, trying to catch his breath. “Phenomenal.”

“People tell me I am, but I never know if I can trust them.”

“You can trust me,” he says, giving her hip a squeeze.

She smiles at him, grateful and genuine, and then she slinks down onto the floor. His legs already start to fall open on their own to accommodate her, but she palms his knees and spreads him wider as she gets right up in his space, running her hands steadily up the planes of his thighs.

“I do trust you,” she says as she pops the button on his pants and goes for his zipper. “God, I bet you have a nice cock.”

He bites his lip and doesn’t say anything as she pushes his pants open and takes his cock out, pushing his boxerbriefs down and tucking them under his balls. Jesus, he’s grateful they were filming inside today in the air-conditioning and not out there on the tarmac in the hundred degree Atlanta heat. His costume looks cool, but it doesn’t breathe very well, and he wasn’t exactly counting on getting his dick sucked today.

“It’s big,” she says appreciatively. She runs her fingertips along his length, hesitating when she gets to his foreskin. “I don’t… I haven’t….”

“Never been with someone uncut?” he asks, wondering if this is going to be a dealbreaker for her. He always forgets that American girls get weird about this.

“You’re my first,” she says in that whispery voice, looking up at him with wide eyes, and Jesus if that doesn’t make him harder. “Can you…? What do you like? Help me make it good.”

“Everything’s good,” he says, and he feels a cocky sort of half smile stretching at his lips. “Your pretty mouth is gonna feel so good. Just ease into it a bit. I’m a little sensitive.”

“Is that so?” she asks, cupping his balls in one hand and running her other palm over his clothed chest. “Big man like you? All strong and tough on the outside, soft and sensitive on the inside?”

“I’m not soft,” he says with a grin.

“No, you certainly aren’t,” she says, running her thumb along his shaft, and his dick jerks under her attention. “It’s very flattering. Not soft. Just sensitive.”

“Don’t go telling everyone on the Internet my secrets,” he says, biting his lip. Her hands are so soft, and the anticipation is getting to him.

“Should I tell you a secret to make us even?” she asks, cocking her head coyly.

“Sure.”

“I….” She bites her lip, and she hesitates, like she’s trying to decide how much she’s going to say. “I haven’t done this a lot. Really only, like...two other guys before.”

“Is that so?” he asks softly. He can’t tell if she’s acting or if she’s being truthful, but he’s going to be gentle with her either way.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I might not be any good.”

“I think you’re gonna be just fine,” he says, and he cups her face in his hand, thumbing at her cheekbone. “Do you still want to try? Third time’s the charm?”

“I want to try,” she says, and she licks her lips until they glisten. He touches his thumb to her lower lip, tugging on it just a little and letting it spring back into place. _Jesus_ , her mouth.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says. “I won’t rush you.”

“I’m ready,” she says, and that’s all the warning he gets before she leans in and runs her velvety tongue along the exposed part of his cockhead.

“ _Shit_ ,” he exhales, shutting his eyes and arching his back in an effort to keep his hips still. He hasn’t had a mouth on his dick in ages, and he’s already feeling greedy for her.

“You _are_ sensitive,” she says, awed.

“I told you,” he says breathlessly. “I like it...I like it really wet. Keep it nice and smooth.”

“I’ll try,” she says, and then she’s back on him again, and her mouth is liquid heat against him as she suckles on the head of his cock and tentatively tongues at his foreskin. He tenses his thighs so he won’t buck into her mouth.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” he says, and she makes a small noise in her throat that has him groaning. He really is sensitive, and he’s so, so easy for getting his dick sucked. Truly, he’s pretty much good to go as long as someone drools on him a bit and maybe plays with his balls. His last girlfriend told him he was so easy for it that she felt like a sex goddess every time she went down on him.

He thinks he’d like to make Scarlett feel like a sex goddess.

She’s licking at him curiously, toying with his foreskin with tiny flicks of her tongue and then lapping at his slit with broader, wetter strokes, and it’s making him crazy. He licks his own palm, gets his hand nice and wet, and then he idly strokes himself, easing his foreskin all the way back and then working his shaft while she focuses on his cockhead. There’s a furrow in her brow, like she’s concentrating, and after a bit, she bats his hand away and replaces it with hers, using her nimble fingers to catch all her spit and his precome and sluice it down the rest of his cock.

“You’re amazing,” he sighs, and the corner of her mouth twitches like she’s holding back a smile. She starts bobbing on his dick, just taking him nice and easy, shallow and slippery, and it’s just about perfect. He reaches back and removes her ponytail holder, and at first her hair kinda stays back where it was, but he runs his fingers through her hair until it falls around her face in soft blonde waves. She looks up at him, and her mouth looks impossibly wide around his dick, and he runs his finger along her lips, feeling the way he’s stretching her open.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

She blinks at him, and her cheeks flush just a little bit. And then she takes him deeper, and he’s grunting from the effort of trying not to fuck down her warm throat.

“Hey, darling,” he says from between gritted teeth, “you did such a good job getting me warmed up. Did you want me to fuck you now?” He’s trying to be nonchalant, but in truth she’s getting him too worked up, and he’s going to come too soon if he doesn’t cool down a bit first.

She slackens her jaw and slowly slides off his dick, and when she pulls away, her mouth is so red and wet from him using it that he has to shut his eyes for a minute. When he opens them again, her lips are still parted and wanton, and she’s going to be the death of him, she really is.

“You’re still wearing so much clothing,” he says, and it takes considerable effort to keep his voice even and unaffected. “Why don’t you take some of it off?”

“Do you want to see my body?” she asks him softly. “Is that what you want?”

“Please,” he groans. She’s already so fucking sinful, just sexy as anything, and she’s still completely covered up from head to toe. He doesn’t know how he’s going to survive seeing her naked, but he wants it anyway.

“Okay,” she says, and she easily pushes back up to her feet. He slouches down on the couch and crosses his arms behind his head, just to make it clear that he’s settling in for a show, and she takes it in stride, looking at him with hooded eyes and a seductive smile. She’s sexy without ever even trying to be, but when she _does_ try? Fuck, she’s devastating.

She toys with the hem of her sweatshirt and then seems to change her mind. She starts rolling down her leggings, wriggling her hips back and forth to ease them down her legs, and he’s mesmerized by the sight of her, by the way she is so effortlessly beautiful when she’s just completing a simple task. Sebastian loves watching women get undressed. Even when it’s not designed to be a striptease, when it’s a straightforward removal of clothing for practical purposes, he finds there’s something deeply erotic about a woman revealing herself in a casual, matter-of-fact way. There’s an efficiency to the way Scarlett is pulling down her leggings that he is deeply attracted to.

He knows he’s weird. He _knows_. People tell him all the time, and it’s just an inescapable fact of his existence. But he likes what he likes, and here inside this trailer where he and Scarlett are trusting each other with themselves, he’s not going to be ashamed.

She steps out of her leggings and kicks them aside, and then she’s back to playing with the hem of her sweatshirt. She’s still smiling, but it looks more forced now, and she’s fidgeting. Stalling. It’s not what he expected from her, and he sits up straighter, tries to look more present and respectful.

“You okay?” he asks, and she shrugs one shoulder and stops smiling altogether.

“You...you know I had a baby, right?” she asks quietly, and all the pretense falls away. He can’t pretend she’s no one. He can’t pretend she isn’t his good friend Scarlett having self doubts. He _can’t_.

“Hey, c’mere,” he says softly, and she sighs and steps closer. He tucks his half-hard dick back into his shorts and opens his arms to her, and she sinks down into his lap, perching on his knee. Her legs are so smooth this close up, and he feels the warmth of her on his thigh. He runs his palm slowly up and down over her back, and she sighs again and slumps into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry if I’m ruining it,” she says glumly.

“You’re not,” he says. “You’re not, Scar. Do you need to stop? We don’t have to do anything else.”

“I want to,” she says, and she smiles a little. “I liked the look of your dick. I really was hoping you’d put it in me.”

“Well, of course I will, kiddo,” he says, pushing the hair back from her face. “If that’s what you want. But can we just...be us? I’m no good at pretending.”

“Good thing it isn’t the literal basis of your entire means of supporting yourself,” she says, and she pushes her thumb into the dimple on his chin and then runs her fingertip along his lower lip. “You’ve got a gorgeous mouth. Do you know that?”

“Scar.”

“I don’t want to date you,” she says quietly. “Please don’t be offended by that. It’s just not what I’m looking for right now.”

“I’m not looking for that either,” he rushes to reassure her. “I just wanted to put my dick in you and maybe see your tits and then watch _Daredevil_ on Netflix afterwards.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” she says slowly. “If that’s not okay, tell me to stop.”

He raises his eyebrows and makes his eyes bug out, comically pressing his lips together tightly, and she rolls her eyes at him and kisses him gently, taking his lower lip between both of hers, and his fists close involuntarily, catching the material of her sweatshirt in his grasp. She takes her time with him, kissing the entire surface of each of his lips before licking at the seam of his mouth. And he opens up for her, she opens him up with her tongue and licks her way inside, and he lets her taste and explore until she’s panting against his mouth.

“You’re such a good kisser,” he murmurs. “So fucking good at that.”

“Shut up,” she says, but she’s blushing a little bit. She looks him in the eye but doesn’t say anything, and he holds her gaze and waits. After a minute, she exhales softly, and then she yanks off her sweatshirt with one jerky motion, tosses it on the floor behind her, and her eyes look a little bit wild and defiant.

Her tits are big. He knew they would be, but his last girlfriend was pretty flat-chested, and he loved her body but it was the only one he saw for a long time, and now he gets to see this body, and he’s fascinated by it. Her tits hang lower on her torso than he was expecting, and her nipples are darker than he’d have guessed, but there’s a lushness to her, a softness that he wants to lose himself in.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, and he licks his lips without meaning to, and even though he can’t tear his eyes away from her chest long enough to verify it, he can _hear_ the smirk in her voice.

“Think I’d be offended if you didn’t,” she says, and that’s all it takes before he’s on her. He trails his index finger down her sternum, just watching the way she gets shivery as his hand gets so close to her breasts without touching them, and then when he’s all the way down to her navel, when he feels the way her abs are contracting and her chest heaving every time she sucks in one shuddery breath after another, then he finally gets his hands on her.

Her nipples are already hard against his palms, and he’s got one of her tits in each of his hands, feeling the weight of her, the way gravity keeps trying to pull her down as he pushes her back up. She’s more than a handful but he tries to cover as much of her as he can, kneading at her even as she’s spilling out between his fingers, and he ducks his head down and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to the exposed tops of her breasts, covering with his mouth what he can’t cover with his hands. And she’s making new noises now, these breathy little whines, and he’s addicted to the sound of it. He wants to take her apart and devour her. He wants to get his mouth and his face over every last inch of her skin.

“Your hands,” she gasps. “God, your hands are huge.”

“Not big enough,” he grunts. He swipes his tongue over her nipple, and she keens. “Wanna touch you everywhere.”

“Touch me everywhere,” she repeats weakly. “Fuck, Sebastian. Will you fuck me? Take your clothes off so I can see you, and then I… I want.”

He only feels a little self-conscious when he pulls his t-shirt off over his head, and it’s weird because he _knows_ his body is great, he got jacked as shit for this role and he knows he looks good, but it still makes him a little nervous, putting himself on display for someone for the first time.

“Jesus,” she says breathlessly, and she’s got both her palms moving over him, feeling his pecs and then slipping down his torso to map out his abs. “Christ, Seb. You looked good for _Winter Soldier_ , but this is a whole ‘nother level.”

“Yeah?” Okay, so maybe he’s fishing now, but he likes being praised.

“Fuck, yes. You just look really...powerful. Like you could hold me down real good.”

“If that’s what you wanted,” he says. “I could pick you up, too.”

“Do it,” she says immediately. “Oh my god, do it.”

“Hold on,” he says, and he slings his arms around her and stands up. Her legs wrap around his body, and she feels like barely any weight at all. He hasn’t had sex with anyone since bulking up this much, and if every part of it is going to make him feel this big and strong, it’s going to be _awesome_.

“Wow,” she breathes. “That’s impressive. Do you want to carry me to the bed and ruin me a bit?”

“Um,” he says, his dick twitching violently in his pants. “A million percent yes.”

“Cool,” she says. “And then maybe take a nap?”

“Sure.”

“And then _Daredevil_ on Netflix?” she asks, looping her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

“Obviously,” he says with a grin.

“Obviously,” she says, returning his smile. “Promise me we’re not going to ruin our friendship by fucking?”

“I promise,” he says. “I swear it.”

“Okay,” she says. “Okay. Then take me to bed and lay me out and make me come so hard I forget my name.”

(And he does. Twice. And when she forgets her name, he whispers it into the thin skin above her collarbone, murmurs her name over and over again so that she knows that he’s seeing _her_ , he knows it’s her and he knows what’s special about her, and it’s Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett.)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](http://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/182995841754/mcu-kink-bingo-scarlett-johanssonsebastian-stan)


End file.
